All Too Well
by Reader.Not.Writer.1996
Summary: Molly remembers the relationship all to well... But does Mycroft? Molly reflects on the glorious memories she has of the time they both spent together but does he even remember it? Inspired by the TSwift song of the same name, disclaimer inside.


_**All Too Well**_

I walked through the door of 221B with you, the air was cold and yet with you by my side it felt strangely like home which it never had done before. You graciously begin to take my coat and scarf before directing me to the sofa against the wall where your brother's clients usually sit. The scarf was a faded old one, it didn't surprise me that I forgot it, the fact that it's in on of your draws even now, after all this time did however surprise me.

Around me you always seemed to have a sweet and kind disposition and I always seemed to have a near constant wide-eyed gave, forever amazed by you. I look back on the memories of _us _fondly, me softly singing in the car, my head resting against your shoulder, never realising that we are slowly getting more and more lost into the boroughs of London, never realising you'd asked your driver to take a long detour home. I remember autumn leaves falling down around us after you'd met me at the hospital after my shift and we walked the streets of London, the leaves were like pieces of my life finally falling into place. I can still picture it all in my mind, even after all these days, these weeks, these months.

I know that what we had is long gone and that I'll never get it back because that magic isn't here any more. And I am okay with that, but as your brother deduced and, as I'm sure you would if you were to ever see me again you'd I'm okay, but I'm not fine; not at all. Not matter how many times I say it or who I say it to whether it be Sherlock, John, Mike or anyone else, I know I'm not fine, and they know that too.

...

I lie down on my bed at night and I remember. I remember us driving down a little town street near your parents house, I don't know how long it had been since you'd last driven but you were clearly out of practise and I couldn't stop myself from laughing because of how unnatural it was, seeing you behind the wheel of a car. You only glance over in my direction, but it's enough to make you nearly run the red light in front of you before you slam on the breaks, jerking us both forward and making me laugh even harder. I remember those times _all too well_.

Your mum's put all the photo albums on one of the counters in the kitchen and I glance up just in time to see your cheeks turn red. I'm flicking through the photos looking at the little kid in glasses who was tucked into his twin size bed, sitting up against the head-board, arms folded, looking grumpy about having your photo taken. I look up to you now, sat at the kitchen table, the same posture with the crossed arms and the same grumpy look on your face. As your mum cooks dinner she starts regaling us with stories about when you were on the chess team and the debate team and gradually you begin to join in, adding your own memories to the stories. You tell me about your past thinking your future is going to be with me.

...

I know that what we had is long gone. The magic's not here any more. And sometimes, very occasionally I forget about you and I forget just long enough to forget why I needed to.

...

I remember it was the middle of the night, I' woken up and gone downstairs for a drink, opening the fridge to get the juice I begin to slowly hum to myself and quietly dance on the spot as I grab a glass from the cupboard and poured the juice into it. You make me jump as you creep up behind me wrapping your arms around my waist, whispering into my ear,

"That is not how you dance Dr Hooper" before taking me in your arms and waltzing me round your kitchen, the light from your fridge our spotlight and the sound of our hearts as our music.

I remember how much I loved you but maybe we just got lost in translation. Maybe I asked for too much? All I knew is that the love we shared was a master piece before you tore it all up. You ran, scared of what we'd created together, scared you were finally letting your feelings show, gradually breaking my heart with every step of distance you put between us, calling less and less, not answering any of _my_ calls, no longer meeting me from work, creating a huge silence between us. You call me up a few weeks later, unable to face talking to me in person, only to break me like all of the promises you broke. In that moment I realise how like your brother you can be; so casually cruel in the name of being honest. Now I lie down on my bed as crumpled and torn as the envelope you'd sent me, containing all the pictures that you had documenting our time together, the only proof, besides my broken heart, that it was real. Yet I remember it _all too well_.

They say "time flies when your having fun", when you're happy, when you don't want the good times to end. Well for me time no longer feels like it can fly, it's stuck on the ground paralysing me. I'd like to be my old self again, the quiet, shy, solitary girl I used to be. I'd like to be myself again but I'm still trying to find it. After all those days where I'd managed to persuade you into the plaid shirts instead of your usual ones and all those, you mail back my things, the photos, clothes, work I'd left at your house, and I walk home from the morgue alone.

...

I could never find my old scarf though, the on I'd left in 221B. I assumed Sherlock must still have it, but when I asked him he said you'd taken it from there a few days later. You kept my scarf from that very first week, why? Did it reminded you of the months we'd spent together? Did it remind of innocence? Or was it just because it smelt like me? You can't get rid of that scarf. That's how I know you, like me, remember it _all too well._

You must remember the time when I loved you so much, back before you lost the one real thing you've ever know in your life, letting it slip through your fingers like sand and if you do remember it do you feel like I do now? Do you see all your memories of _us_ when you close your eyes? Can you picture the way the wind blew through my hair? You should, you were there. Do you remember it like I do? You used to tease me that I always ran down the stairs Do you remember it? Do you remember it all? I do and I know you do. You know that what we had was rare and so do I because I was there, and just like me you remember it, _all too well_.

* * *

**I have an exam tomorrow so obviously this was my way of revising for it (It is an English exam so technically this counts right?) anyway this is my procrastination in full swing so I hope you like it :) obviously I own nothing. Please feel free to leave a review, they honnestly make my day so I would be very grateful, agin I hoped you liked it and happy reading everyone. :)**


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